In Vino Vitam
by clockwork starlight
Summary: In wine, life. A collection of all things Clow x Yuuko, aka lushlove.
1. A Wish is Just a Dream

So this'll be a collection of Clow x Yuuko stories. I will probably post more of them on my livejournal, because LJ gives me better feedback. Standard disclaimers apply, I don't own Cardcaptor Sakura or xxxHolic, anything that doesn't look like mine probably isn't.

in vino vitam. In wine, (there is) life. I'm fairly sure I declined that right. I'm not actually sure why 'in vino veritas' is in the plural, unless we're under the supposition that you only really get chatty when there are several of you getting plastered. I was going to do 'in vino amorem' but that just looked funny.

* * *

A Wish is Just a Dream You Can't Sell 

It's an unwritten rule in powerful magic. You don't use your gift for yourself. You know the price and the value and sometimes the self-awareness of choosing this fate is enough to drive you mad. You think that the price you pay is cheap in comparison, and what you gain is easy enough to control. Sooner or later you can't continue on your own strength, and you are forced to eat small children and find catty devotees with no fashion sense. Or, if you are related to the previous example, you unmake yourself and hope it won't be as troublesome as the life you just ended.  
So.  
So when she had to, she read his palm, because he couldn't do it himself, and she saw the lines that weren't there tangle in his future, saw the heart line continue over the edge of his palm, even as the line of life petered away. Even so, she pinched the flesh below his ring finger, the Mount of Sun, and said all she ever saw on his hand was sex and sake.  
So.  
She had no means of granting her own wishes other than hard work, and her wish was never worth the effort. And then he was gone, and all the hard work in the world wouldn't bring him back, but maybe enough alcohol would let her have him for a little while.  
Ichihara Yuuko had only ever had one wish in her life, open-ended and vague, and she saved even thinking about it for special occasions and sometimes Mondays. She told him once, what her wish would be, if she ever had to have it granted. He'd looked at her, eyes bright and attentive despite the sips he'd stolen from _her_ cup. She'd managed to convey somehow, through her clumsy tongue and loose hold on vocabulary, that if the situation arose where she had to make a wish, she'd wish that the present situation didn't suck so much. He'd laughed at that, and told her gently, that wasn't really a wish and that she was only human after all. She'd kicked him off the chaise half dressed with a Mokona super-suctioned to either elbow. Only human my foot, she'd snarled. It's a very nice foot, he reasoned and topped off her drink even though he couldn't bend his arm.  
So.  
So here she is, watching the sky above her, a little girl and a flying pincushion. In one hand is the model of the Clow Staff she helped design, in the other a bottle of aged red wine. She had known, when she told him all little girls like pink, four-eyes, so stop trying to be PC. He'd said it would be for his daughter so it had to be perfect, and she found herself with an almost-wish. Which she then stamped ruthlessly down, because she'd make an awful mother, and gods above, below and beyond, Clow would be an absolutely wretched father, and no child should have to suffer through that. Besides, she was an alcoholic, and a magician and so no spawning for her. But the thought was worth the few tears she paid.  
So.  
So she knows everything is paid in full, no more, no less. You pay for the good with the bad, you pay for your happiness with hard work and misery. You pay for his presence with his absence. You pay for the memories with the heartache. And you keep moving forward, because Clow Reed was a gigantic pain the ass, and the world is _still_ cleaning up after him.


	2. Chrysalis

Like anything changed from the first installment.

_

* * *

_

Chysalis_  
_

_So Clow Reed-san, shall I grant your wish?_

He comes into being knowing that he is the living embodiment of a great man's wish. He knows his other half will not know anything, so he must make sure to know enough for the both of them. He knows he doesn't know Keroberos or Yue, but he misses them dreadfully anyway.  
"Good morning, Hiiragizawa Eriol. Welcome to the world of the living. Didn't think dying would take that much out of you."  
He turns to the voice and stares down cinnabar eyes crinkled with forced amusement. _Butterfly_, he thinks, acquainting himself with his body. Memories are telling him what motions he should be making to get out of bed, but the muscles don't know who the hell is driving yet.  
"You're the unlucky child, aren't you? All that magic, and you don't even know how to move your own fingers."  
"You _must_ be Ichihara Yuuko-hime. I don't there's anyone else within memory as annoying as you."  
"Ohohoho, and you would kiss your mother with that mouth? I'm very glad I'm not her!" She flits out of the room in a whirl of colored silk.

_He's not Clow. He's not. There is no more Clow Reed. No more kisses when he thinks you're passed out in a drunken stupor, no more reading in dead languages, no… _ She puts together the tea tray even as she fights back the flood of memories. Clow would have put some kind of lock on the boy's memory. Newly born eleven year olds shouldn't be remembering their previous incarnation's paramours. So Hiiragizawa Eriol will not know that Yuuko likes the feel of large hands sliding through her hair, or that whenever he was around, Clow always had a say in what she did or did not end up wearing for the day.  
She looks down at the perfectly prepared cup of tea and the last scone in her kitchen. How often had she done this on his birthday? An English breakfast in bed, and whatever happened next was part of the plan, really. Except that 'the plan' has been shot to hell because she's not a necrophile and there's no body anyway. She'll feed him, and send him to Reed Manor in England straight after, so that she can drink and smoke and let the Mokona Modoki cuddle off their grief.

He is several hundred and eleven years and a day old. He has magic and memories that aren't his but belong to him anyway. And he's lonely without Clow's Guardians, and he doesn't mind leaving Yuuko-hime because he knows Clow loved her in his own way, but he's not Clow so he doesn't, but he likes her enough not to hurt her by being there. And when he moves to fill the Guardian shaped voids in his life, he knows why his sketches all have scalloped butterfly wings.


	3. Of Chaos and Coiffure

I got bit by another idea. I dedicate this fic to **phrenicentropy**. Because she likes Yuuko's hair. But not as much as Clow. Sorry **phrenicentropy**.   
I'mma go put something on bunny-bite. Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

Of Chaos and Coiffure

Soel and Larg have stolen Keroberos' dessert. It sounds like he's chased them through the hallway, probably destroying several priceless antiques in the process. She's just glad they're in _his_ house today, because if it were the shop, there is no power under the sun or the moon that would have kept her from making him pay for every last speck of dust he disturbed. On top of this debt.  
"You're a cruel, heartless woman, Ichihara Yuuko."  
"You're still working off your end, so don't meddle in other people's."  
Her hair ripples with his laughter, and he has to stop combing. The payment for damaging that sinfully glorious cascade of ebony would not be easy, even for him, he knows.  
"Are you sure this isn't a disproportionately difficult task? All I did was—"  
"All you did," she says calmly, without a modicum of amusement or pity, "was suggest, as you assure me, in good fun and spirit, that Keroberos push me into your decorative pond. As such, because he is _your_ creation, and because you have thumbs, you are fixing my hair."  
"Well I'm trying, but your hair is as beautiful and difficult as you are. I don't know how you style it for your out-of-town visits. And if I'm doing your hair, why are the Mokona tormenting my poor Guardian?"  
"Clow, you silly, silly fool. This is the payment. That," she gestures in the direction of the resounding clang of Keroberos slamming into a suit of armor, "that is the _payback_."  
"You are a cruel, heartless woman, Ichihara Yuuko."  
"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. And keep brushing."   
She's almost purring under the slow, steady caress of jade teeth. Shifting further into the mattress, tilting her head further over the scroll of the chaise longue; she does love the combination of her hair and his hands. She lets a sensuous sigh roll around her mouth before letting it go.  
"Yuuko," his voice is pleasant, if strained, "it occurs to me, that you might just be teasing."  
"Me?" Her neck pours her head over to meet his eyes. "What could I possibly gain from teasing?"  
And now he knows she's been taking advantage of his lack of business acumen. And she's all the more a manipulative, sadistic, beautiful witch of a tease. Even upside-down. So he kisses her, just to feel her luscious mouth curl into a smile. The comb clatters to the floor, one hand curling around her neck, the other threading through her hair to smooth away tangles that aren't there, to swipe away the mess he had been making in his attempts to recreate her coiffure. She's purring now, he can feel it vibrating against his thumb, pressed as it is in the silky skin under her jaw. He can taste rain and sake and fate through the dark warmth of her mouth and wonders as he releases her to breathe and join her on the upholstered cushions, if she realizes this is positive reinforcement for pushing her into ponds. 


	4. Valentine: Age Still Leaves Us

Anachronism  
Series: xxxHolic  
Ship: Clow x Yuuko  
Preferred Rating: Up to you, daaaaahling.  
Theme(s): outside, english pastries  
Genre: Romance, all the way. (Though I prefer my Clow/Yuuko romances to be bitter, with just a hint of sweet, and a bit of tart for extra zing.)

What though youth gave love and roses  
Age still leaves us friends and wine.  
-Thomas More

_

* * *

_

_ "Yuuko," he announced as he strode into the garden, apparently from under the hydrangea plant, "I've got it."  
"The plague?" she asked hopefully, draining away half the bottle in her hand. It was alright as she had another dozen lined up for just such an unexpected visit from the world's most powerful sorcerer.  
Clow deflated only a little bit. "No, actually it's —"  
"You know, just because I'm the Witch of the Dimensions," she continued, trampling daintily over his interruption, "does not mean I have _doors_ simply for decoration. Especially," she went on inexorably, "since one imagines English gentlemen callers on a single woman would show at least a pretense of propriety."  
"Propriety? Yuuko-hime, I know for a fact that your… generous welcome has inspired several of the finest pieces of _shunga_ I have ever seen."  
"They all over exaggerated my chin. And that had nothing to do with the wishes." She thought for a second. "I should have charged them more."  
"You were probably upside down and drunk when they walked in and you asked to grant their wish. Artists don't turn away from beauty simply for good manners."  
"I suppose you count yourself as one of those."  
"Magic is both art and science. You're distracting me." He ignored her composed 'I always do, you'd think the great Clow Reed wouldn't suffer from something so silly as the attention span of a kitten'. "Yuuko, I've got—"  
"Mokona."  
"What?"  
Soel and Larg appear from nowhere, defying several irrefutable arguments of physics to attach themselves to his face.  
"Happy Valentine's Day!" they chirruped sweetly, planting kisses like dandelions all over.   
"Go play outside," he suggested in what he hoped was an iron fatherly type of tone, bent on not being distracted any further.  
"They _are_ outside, you dolt."  
Clow's expression faltered just a little bit more as he processed the Mokonas' greeting as well as his lovely lady's bite. Yuuko caught every single nuance with eyes only slightly glazed over.  
"You forgot what day it is. Even though you have the original Chaucer illuminations somewhere in your desk, you forgot what day it is."  
"I was absorbed—"  
"Admit it, you picked up a book you started a hundred years ago and never got around to finishing. Which somehow inspired you to cook up yet another little game, that you were no doubt about to detail, in great length and pomposity, to me, who will luckily be much drunker by the time you get around to it."  
"Perhaps today isn't the best day to go over the finer elements of this scheme," he offered weakly. He pulled a silver service set tiered with pastries and chocolates out the air and set his offerings at her tiny slippered feet. "Would you care for a Bath bun?"  
The Mokona needed no more invitation to pounce. The treats were gone in less than a flash, which shouldn't have surprised him, since they'd made the Mokona Modoki together. He gave them personalities and free will and threw in unholy metabolisms so the three of them could whine about their hunger together. He'd thought it would be a good excuse to cook more often, since Yue refused to eat on principle. There were studies being done on eating disorders, he would have to look further into them. Later.  
"Could they be a bit more subtle about the fact that they like you more?"  
"If _I_ were created from magic, and _I_ woke up alive," Yuuko drawled impassively, "and the first things I saw were your smug smiling face holding a cat with big teeth complaining about being hungry yet again, and _me_, I know who I'd disown."  
Larg's disproportionately long ears flapped in merriment as Soel solemnly presented her with a heart-shaped truffle that had been the centerpiece of his spread. She thanked them graciously, as if she didn't know full well, backwards and forwards how the system of ownership worked.  
He was left with no choice but to use his trump card, knowing he should have acquired several more before even considering a visit to Japan. Any complaints were forgotten at the sight of Yuuko brightening like the moon as he produced the bottle.  
"Chocolate liqueur?" she asked in delighted disbelief. She pulled herself upright to better read the label. "For me? Really?" She considered jumping up to kiss him and snatch the bottle; but he'd forgotten, it was only his disarming foresight that had saved his ass. It would have been difficult for any of her other visitors to know of, much less buy, anything from those European barbarians. They did have good taste though.  
"Happy Valentine's Day."  
"It's getting tolerable," she retorted, keeping one eye on him._

Clow Reed, world's most powerful magician, first class idiot.

It's the beginning before the beginning, or to Yuuko, the round before the real party. She'd like to get smashed enough by the time dinner rolls around to ignore the celebrations of love and such. Watanuki is having several successive seizures in the kitchen, but she assumes he's having fun, since she promised he could use her kitchen and supplies to make whatever his little heart desired, however fancy. Watanuki understands love doesn't mean forever, which is why she'll let him flit away to feed his many affections; the little fox kit, pretty Kohane, Himawari, Doumeki. She has another sip of smooth sweet. The taste lingers on her tongue, softer than the first bottle she had all those years ago. She recalls with some bitterness when she finally learned what it was he'd been planning on telling her that day. She'd been furious and offended, and more than that she'd been afraid. Of course, being who she was, she'd gone straight over to give him a piece of her mind.

_She was Ichihara Yuuko, mistress of time and space, and she didn't use doorbells, thank you very much. She crossed the hall, her heels tapping softly against the marble, barely discernable beneath the "Yuuko, what a pleasant surprise!" She strode all the way up to him and her palm made a very satisfying_ smack _against his cheek. His silver pince-nez clattered to the floor. Yue was at his side in a second; silver eyes blazing. Cerberus was lying unperturbed on the landing above them, watching the proceedings with interest.  
"Ah, so you don't approve then." The welcoming smile remained on his face.   
"Approve of what, Clow?" Cerberus asked, knowing anything that got the Dimension Witch to come to Reed Manor had to be absolutely awful.  
"You arrogant, self-serving, narcissistic _prick_," she'd snarled.  
"Yuuko-chan found the chocolate statue of myself that was going to be her Valentine," he lied so smoothly, she almost believed it, but anger held her haughtily aloft.  
"If you didn't seem to have_ it all planned out_; I'd kill you, price be damned."  
"I foresee years left for myself, my dear," he'd teased, an undercurrent of warning in his voice.  
"Then let me give you some quicker ideas for it!"_

"Yuuko-san, how do you like it?"  
She turns to Watanuki and holds the empty glass. "It's lovely. What did you say was called?"  
"Ah, Vermeer Dutch—"  
"Never mind, it doesn't matter. It's a wonderful present. The nicest present I've had in a very long time."


End file.
